


Aftermath

by SmilingWriter



Category: The Legend of Tarzan (2016)
Genre: Epilogue, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 21:10:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7454077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmilingWriter/pseuds/SmilingWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An epilogue to the movie, The Legend of Tarzan (2016)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

Tarzan waited until it was dark and all was silent. He was still Tarzan tonight, the part of him that he had let have full rein to rescue Jane, and Tarzan hungered. He lightly placed a hand over Jane's mouth, not surprised by her instant wakefulness, the gleam of her eyes waiting to see what he would do. He rose, scooping her into his arms as he stood. She clung to him, arms around his shoulders, and let him carry her out of the house and into the jungle. 

They didn't speak. Words were unnecessary. Jane had always understood him and what he needed so well. He released her when they reached a vine, and she dropped lightly to the ground before switching to clinging to his back. Even with her weight, he climbed the vine easily, grateful that the transition to Tarzan had been so effortless. Needs must when the devil drives, his grandfather would have said. All Tarzan knew was that rescuing Jane required more than Lord John Clayton could have achieved. 

Spying a flat, wide trunk, Tarzan swung over, and Jane nimbly climbed off, making sure she had a good footing before letting go of him. 

Then she was back in his arms again, and they were hungrily kissing, desperate for the taste of each other. Tarzan had adapted well to civilization but still found parts of its strange, especially its insistence that wives shouldn't enjoy intimate relations with their husbands. He was grateful that Jane had soundly rejected that idiocy. 

Her white nightgown was thin, the cotton little barrier to his touch, but still too much. He slid it up and over her head, caressing her skin as he did, before tossing it away. 

Jane watched it fall, giving him a mock frustrated look. "You will get that back for me before we return." 

He glanced to where the garment had ended up draped over a small branch. "I will," he promised. He'd been raised running naked, with no concept of clothes and only an unarticulated awareness that skin and fur were different, but civilization had made him jealous of the thought of anyone else seeing his wife naked.

"Good," Jane said, her hands going to the fastenings on his breeches. 

Tarzan splayed his hands against her back, forcing her to arch, burying his face in her perfect breasts. He loved their smooth shape, the gentle slope, the hard pink nubs of her nipples. He delighted to lick and suck on them, to hear her sweet moans as the pleasure swept over both of them. He needed more tonight, needed to press into her, to make her his again. Maybe this time he would put another child in her, one who would survive. He shimmied the loosened breeches down his hips, sliding his hands down to her rounded buttocks, raising and stroking into her with one smooth motion. As always, her body accepted him, warm and welcoming. 

"John!" she called. 

He grunted, stretching his mouth wide to cover an entire breast, his tongue focused on tasting her nipple. 

"Tarzan," she breathed. 

It didn't matter which name she used. He was both men, as he needed to be, and both loved her. 

Her thighs squeezed his hips, her heels digging into his buttocks, as her hips moved in unison with his, relishing his claiming. 

He released her breast to take her mouth in another searing kiss, devouring her. Small gasps and moans escaped her lips, but he kept swallowing them, excited by the proof that she needed and craved him with the same intensity he felt. 

He could feel himself swelling, releasing into her depths. Thrusting hard, he stayed inside her, wanting to fill her completely. He slumped against her, letting the tree trunk against her back hold both of their weights. 

She hadn't come. He hadn't felt her convulse around him. Sometimes she didn't, and he had never been able to figure out the lack. Civilization told him that was acceptable, that she shouldn't come anyway, but Tarzan had been too old when he was introduced to civilization to accept all its dictates. 

Sinking to his knees, he spread her soft folds with his fingers, tasting her with his tongue. Her beauty was as pure and true here as it was elsewhere, the taste of her flesh and the hard nub exquisite. One of her hands dug into his long hair, but she stuffed the other into her mouth to stifle her cries. 

"Let me hear you," he ordered. 

She obliged, burying both hands in his hair as her cries escaped her mouth, heard by Tarzan and the nocturnal animals of the jungle. Maybe this civilized notion of an obedient wife wasn't such a bad thing. 

Feeling her hands clench in his hair to the point of pulling on it, Tarzan could tell she was close to finding her ecstasy, increasing his efforts until her cries sang to the moon and her juices flooded his face. 

She was limp and dazed leaning against the tree trunk, her face relaxed and blissful with an expression that pleased Tarzan. He restored his breeches into place before grabbing a vine and swinging to collect her nightgown. Raising her arms, he dressed her before sitting on the tree branch, his back against the trunk, and cuddled her in his arms. She was safe, secure, and satiated by his loving. 

"I knew the whole time. I knew you would come for me." 

"Always," he swore, stroking her fine hair. "No one will ever keep me from you." 

She didn't speak again, her breath slowing to indicate she'd fallen asleep. Tarzan let her sleep, keeping watch. He'd wake her before dawn so they could return to the village unnoticed. For now, he was content to hold her.

Tarzan. Jane.

Lord John Clayton. Lady Jane Clayton. 

Together. Forever.

~ the end ~


End file.
